<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Pride Cometh Before the Fall by Yours_Truly_Commander_Shepard</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25983820">Pride Cometh Before the Fall</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yours_Truly_Commander_Shepard/pseuds/Yours_Truly_Commander_Shepard'>Yours_Truly_Commander_Shepard</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blight Cure (Dragon Age), Crack, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Foursome - F/F/M/M, Group Sex, I Don't Even Know, Multi, Post-Canon, Post-Trespasser, Sex Magic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:47:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,126</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25983820</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yours_Truly_Commander_Shepard/pseuds/Yours_Truly_Commander_Shepard</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The only way to cure the Blight is Theirin blood.  Well.  Not quite Theirin blood.  Other fluids.  </p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Alistair had done a lot of things for the Wardens that he was not quite proud of.   He just never thought that an elven demigod would be one of them.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Alistair/Female Warden (Dragon Age), Alistair/Solas/Female Warden/Female Inquisitor, Female Lavellan/Solas, Fen'Harel | Solas/Female Lavellan, Wow I feel bad about cluttering these tags</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>33</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/SidheLives/gifts">SidheLives</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Look, I was *encouraged* to write this mess.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Alistair had done a lot of things for the Wardens that he was not quite proud of.   He just never thought that an elven demigod would be one of them.</p>
<p>“Why me?” he whined.  </p>
<p>He knew that whining was a less attractive trait on him with every year he gained, but he really felt like he’d done all he could for the Wardens--not to mention done who he could for the Wardens--and it was time to let someone else shoulder a load or blow one or whatever.  </p>
<p>“Theirin spunk,” Anders replied, clapping him roundly on the shoulder. “The Maker’s own anti-taint elixir.”</p>
<p>Lyna Mahariel, love of his life, fire of his loins, and lead procurer of his sexual services, past, present and future, sent the mage a dirty look.  </p>
<p>Uncovering his mother’s diary--Andraste’s blessed knees, his mother’s diary--had been the key Lyna needed to unlock the secrets of the taint.  </p>
<p>Alistair had not minded the weekend it took to cleanse them both of it.  Nope, no regrets, not one bit, not even with Anders popping in from time to time to take measurements and cast spells and spend rather too much time staring at Lyna’s tits and Alistair’s own bottom.  Alistair had loudly lost his virginity over about 30 awkward seconds in a canvas tent mere feet from the future leader of the Qunari military; shame was no longer part of his emotional toolkit.  </p>
<p>Alistair only objected to the idea that he was now going to shag his way through every other poor slob afflicted by the Blight.  He was monogamous by nature.  LIke a wolf.  Or an eagle.  Or…</p>
<p>“A shingleback skink,” Merrill added helpfully.  </p>
<p>“Yes, quite,” Alistair said, embarrassed that he’d been speaking aloud.  “I am monogamous like a shingleback skink.  And Lyna is my lady skink.”  </p>
<p>Lyna popped a knowing eyebrow at him.  </p>
<p>“Oh, right, well, and Morrigan, but that was a special circumstance!  A one off!”</p>
<p>Merrill made big eyes at him.  “Isn’t this one too, though?  To save his life?”</p>
<p>Alistair tried to feel a charity of spirit towards the man.  But after seeing thousands perish in the Blight, it was hard to feel sorry for someone who’d gone and gotten himself tainted by fooling around with a red lyrium idol that petrified a solid block of Kirkwall.  </p>
<p>“The Inquisitor thinks that the red lyrium idol isn’t just tainted--it is the taint.  The source. The origin of the Blight.  If you can cleanse the idol, you might stop the entire Blight, not just cure one person,” Anders put in.</p>
<p>And Alistair realized that was likely the reason Anders had not been campaigning for an active role in the weekend de-blighting fuckathon. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Anders--no, wait, he didn’t like Anders.  It was only Lyna’s lingering affection for one of her strays that kept Alistair from handing him over to the Seekers.  </p>
<p>“I just...isn’t there someone else I could shag?  Like the Inquisitor or someone?”  </p>
<p>Alistair had only met Inquisitor Lavellan for a few moments at Redcliffe, but she seemed like a sensible woman. Solid.  Not out to destroy the world. Easy on the eyes.</p>
<p>Merrill giggled. “Is it that he’s a man?”  </p>
<p>Anders echoed her. “Yes, don’t be homophobic.”  </p>
<p>Alistair blushed, feeling that it was very unfair that he was being accused of things just for not wanting to undergo a lot of ritual sex with an elf he’d never even met.   Merrill hastened to assure him that if it would make him or Solas feel better, she was sure that Ellana and Lyna would be happy to join. More than happy.  Anders nodded, looking as though he was biting back his own request for an invitation. Fucker.  </p>
<p>Mahariel laid a hand on his arm, looking up at him beseechingly with her full, dark red lips slightly parted.  </p>
<p>He’d never been able to tell her no.  </p>
<p>Alistair sighed deeply.  “Is he cute, at least?”</p>
<p>***<br/>
Merrill had never had the opportunity to arrange an orgy before, but she’d always hoped for the chance.  In her ten years in Kirkwall, it had always seemed to her that her friends were having an awful lot of sex that nobody ever invited her to, even though she thought that she would have been a valuable player if ever given the chance.  She knew all the contraceptive herbs, not to mention male and female gross anatomy, and several lengthy elvhen ballads about exciting sexual positions.  </p>
<p>Coordinating the ritual to cleanse the taint from Solas--and by extension, the red lyrium idol and possibly the entire world--was thrilling on several levels.  Solas, of course, was a lovely person, who deserved all the best, even if a few of his ideas for how to help the People had not made complete and total sense to Merrill.  But she knew his heart was in the right place, which was why she joined his rebellion.  </p>
<p>But oh, he was always such a grump!  So much sighing, so many longing glances towards the west.  Merrill had thought he was merely upset about being cursed to a gruesome death by the red lyrium idol, which was certainly unfortunate.  But then Abelas had let it slip that Fen’Harel also had issues with his love life, and that had made a lot more sense to Merrill.  So as soon as Mahariel wrote to say that she had a cure for the Blight (Mahariel was such a dear, the very best part of clan Sabrae, and the only one who still remembered Merrill’s birthday or indeed spoke to her at all), Merrill turned right around and wrote to Ellana Lavellan, who Merrill remembered as a very nice girl from the two Arlath’vhens they had spent together. </p>
<p>Merrill loved fixing things.  It was her favorite.  </p>
<p>Ellana had responded very enthusiastically to Merrill’s plan to cure the Blight and cure Solas and also have him available for group sex with all interested parties.  Apparently, Solas had been very remiss in his own correspondence, and indeed had not even bothered to catch Ellana up on what he was doing with the red idol.  </p>
<p>Which was awful of him, wasn’t it?  Merrill made sure to rectify that.  </p>
<p>It was ever so much easier than cleansing even one single tainted eluvian.  All Merrill had to do was to get Alistair, Lyna, Solas, and Ellana into one place at one time, provide appropriate snacks and lubricants, and work with Anders on the magical framework.  So easy!  And at the end, the Blight would be gone, Solas and Ellana would be happy, and Lyna would get that threesome she had always wanted but never been able to talk anyone into.  </p>
<p>Merrill couldn’t wait.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I can't turn off what turns me on.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>If Ellana thought that meeting King Alistair was awkward the first time around, all covered in demon goop and surrounded by apostates…</p><p>This was worse.  </p><p>Ellana was not sure what one brought to an orgy.  Her experience was limited in both type and number, and did not include any of the likely cast of characters at today’s events.  </p><p>Merrill, the sweet woman, had given her only a time and place to arrive--a nearly-abandoned Antivan mansion belonging to a pirate of Merrill’s acquaintance.  </p><p>Ellana did not recall meeting Lyna Mahariel, but she trusted Merrill’s judgment.  She picked Lyna a bunch of wildflowers.  And then Ellana felt rude, because what if Alistair also liked flowers? She picked him some too.  And then Ellana picked Solas some flowers, even though he’d never brought her any, because you should treat others the way you want to be treated.  </p><p>So Ellana was the first one to arrive at the Antivan mansion, and she wandered from room to room bouncing on the beds and checking whether the doors locked, all with her arms full of orchids, and it wasn’t until she heard King Alistair and Warden Mahariel come in through the front door with the man formerly known as ‘Blondie,’ and Ellana realized that the orchids she had picked could be suggestive of, well…</p><p>What they were planning on doing.</p><p>So when they found her in the largest bedroom, Ellana dropped the orchids.  </p><p>“These aren’t sex orchids,” was the first thing she blurted out. “They’re just...flowers.” </p><p>“Sex orchids?” King Alistair asked, setting down a bottle of wine on the sideboard. Wine, that was what Ellana should have brought to the orgy.  “There are sex orchids?  I’m already learning new things.”  </p><p>Lyna smiled winsomely at Ellana and stooped to pick up the fallen flowers.  Lyna was lovely--a very petite woman with skin like dark honey and a shining cap of black hair.  The strong lines of June’s vallaslin across her face made some of the tension flow out of Ellana.  Lyna looked like home.  </p><p>Alistair started chattering nervously as Lyna hunted down a spare vase.  Ellana tried a fixed smile as he told her about the journey from Ferelden, the places they had stayed, the cheeses he had eaten the night before...but if anything, this seemed to encourage him.  So she closed the distance between them and laid a hand on his forearm.  </p><p>His teeth closed with a click as he stared down at the small, innocent point of contact.</p><p>“I very much appreciate what you are doing for me and my...Solas, Your Majesty,” she said, trying to summon some of her diplomatic reserve.  The man winced.</p><p>“You might as well call me Alistair.  Or Ali. You know.  Since you and I might…”  He made a gesture with his hands that was likely designed to convey unintentional sexual contact, but looked more to Ellana like a bird bouncing off a window.  </p><p>Ellana smiled along.  “We can do that, if you want,” she said politely, though she had no idea of the mechanics he was attempting to describe.  Creators, she was so pent up though, she thought she was game for just about anything.  </p><p>Alistair’s eyes grew round.  “Oh, okay, good,” he said faintly.  </p><p>Ellana heard the front door open and shut.</p><p>“Hello!” Merrill’s cheerful voice echoed through the home. Multiple sets of footsteps grew nearer and nearer.  Ellana’s tummy condensed into a small, heavy point in her midsection. </p><p>The door opened, admitting Merrill and a human man in a shaggy black coat.  Bringing up the rear, his feet hesitant and slow, was Solas. Ellana’s heart clenched painfully in her chest. He did not look well.</p><p>He wore a simple tunic and leggings, which was both a relief and a disappointment to Ellana.  She had worried about the effort necessary to crack him out of the close-fitting golden armor she had last seen him wear, but at the same time, the memory of the way those greaves fit had been a decided comfort on a number of lonely solitary nights.  </p><p>But more than that, the hollows under his high cheekbones and the dim, ruddy glow of his eyes were disheartening. Well. They were going to fix more than Ellana’s sexual drought today.  </p><p>Solas frowned at Ellana’s hand on Alistair’s arm, which was not exactly a promising start, but Merrill got a grip on Solas’ shoulder and towed him into the center of the room.</p><p>“Wonderful!” she chirped.  “Everyone is here already. Have you all met?”</p><p>Alistair turned and gave Solas a head-to-toe assessment.  </p><p>“Er. Not yet. I’m Alistair. King Alistair. Well, also Warden Alistair.  Not sure which of those is more relevant.”  Alistair stuck his hand out for Solas to shake, and it lingered in the air for a moment.  </p><p>“Solas,” the other man replied, taking it gingerly.  “The Dread Wolf.”  </p><p>Alistair chuckled.  “It’s funny, you know, because a few times, Lyna has yelled--” His voice trailed off under the force of Solas’ grim expression.</p><p>“I guess it’s not that funny to you,” he whispered.</p><p>Ellana put her remaining hand on her hip and gave Solas a disapproving look.  He flinched under her direct stare.</p><p>“Well,” said Merrill, immune to the emotional currents in the room.  “Did everyone have a chance to fill out the forms about hard and soft limits that I sent around?  No?  Well, that’s alright, we can still go over them now.”</p><p>“You do not need to do this for me,” Solas said, ignoring Merrill and speaking directly to Ellana.  “I would eliminate the Blight, if it is possible, make any sacrifice necessary for that, but if you are merely offering yourself up to enable this...ritual...I will find another way.  Convince him another way.  You have given up enough for this world.”  </p><p>Sure, now he would find another way, Ellana thought, tempted to stew on it.  </p><p>“Perhaps my vhenan and I require a private moment,” Ellana told the others apologetically.  Merrill nodded as Ellana brushed past them into the hallway, tugging Solas along with her.  </p><p>His face was wary as they walked a short distance down the hall.</p><p>“It is not that I am not happy to see you again--” he began, eyes brushing down her body.  </p><p>Ellana wheeled on him, pushing two fingertips against his chest.  </p><p>“Shut up,” she bit out, and his shoulders stiffened in surprise.  “Don’t you dare ruin this for me.”</p><p>“Your pardon?” he gasped.  </p><p>“Do you have any <em> idea </em> of how long it’s been?  Well, I just bet you do, since you know exactly what never happened in all the years since we met back in Haven. You remember all the people I turned down, all that time I was sitting on my thumbs, waiting for you to complete your complicated moral trigonometry?  Sera?  Blackwall?  Iron Bull?”</p><p>His finely-shaped mouth twisted. “You wanted to sleep with <em> Blackwall </em>?”  </p><p>Ellana noted which of those he found surprising--a contemplation for another time.  </p><p>“I mean, maybe? The beard?” She shook her head. “But not the point! The point is--”  she shook her head, clearing her thoughts.  Solas was staring at her hand where it was still pressed against his chest.  </p><p>“The point is,” she said, taking a deep breath, “that you are a great idiot who got himself Blighted.  And Alistair is willing to cure you. And his hot girlfriend wants to be involved.  And I...deserve this. You. And the Fereldan king. And his hot girlfriend.”</p><p>His blue-violet eyes crinkled at the corners, and she wasn’t sure whether it was in amusement or sorrow.  Perhaps both.  </p><p>“I told you I did not wish you to see what I became,” he said sadly.</p><p>Ellana ran her hand down his chest, letting it linger at the waistband of his leggings.  </p><p>“I saw you turn a crowd of people into statues with your mind. I think I can get over the image of you taking a human’s cock.”</p><p>Solas coughed.  </p><p>“Yeah,” Ellana said, thinking more about it. “I definitely think I can handle it.”  </p><p>Solas made a growling noise in the back of his throat.  She had no notice before he grabbed her hips, yanking her against him.  Before she could even suck in a breath, he was thrusting his tongue into her mouth, his lips hot and urgent on hers.  </p><p>Ellana closed her eyes, delighted with the developments, as Solas’ hands slid under her bottom and lifted her up against him.  He spun her so that her back was to the wall and pressed her hard against it.  She wrapped her legs over his hips and dug her heels into the plush mounds of his ass. </p><p>Solas pulled back and pressed his forehead against hers.  </p><p>“Ma nuvenin,” he murmured.</p><p>***</p><p>Alistair had really expected to be more involved.  Oh, things started off with a lot of promise--Solas and Lavellan came in careening through the door, both of them trying to shed their clothes while not breaking the liplock that made Alistair jealous of the oxygen exchanged between their lungs.  And Lyna had immediately shooed Merrill and Anders out the door and gone for her own buttons.  </p><p>Merrill tried to object that nobody had finished listing their do’s and do-not’s, let alone negotiated positions and things, but Alistair had been so eager to see everyone else’s trousers come off that he’d given her the brush.  </p><p>And it was true that Lavellan had very quickly gotten her trickster god’s pants off and cock out, and that inevitable moment of comparison had left Alistair feeling reasonably good about himself.  Fairly certain that Morrigan had been exaggerating in certain of the things she had told him about...himself.  </p><p>The issue was that the elven man just did not shut up.  Lavellan had been very sweet about the way she knelt to kiss her way up his shaft, but that had only set off a stream of protestations about how he did not deserve her.  (He did not protest by way of actually trying to move away from where the Inquisitor was delicately nuzzling the underside of his cockhead, Alistair noted).  </p><p>Now, Alistair had been in a relationship for nearly fifteen years years, and he did not know if Solas had been so lucky over his unimaginably long life, but Alistair had learned some things over the years.  First and foremost, when you are lucky enough to have the woman you love before you on your knees with her mouth on your cock, you shut up and count your blessings.  </p><p>But even when Lavellan hollowed out her cheeks and sucked nearly all of it into her mouth, the man groaned and kept mumbling about all the mistakes he’d made.  </p><p>Alistair saw Lavellan open her eyes and cast about for some help, landing upon Lyna, who was smirking and shimmying out of her own short Dalish leather skirt.  The two women seemed to pass a moment of wordless understanding, because Lyna, now fully nude, climbed up onto the bed to help.  </p><p>Alistair, even after all these years, was so entranced by the rear view of Lyna crawling over to where Solas leaned back on the edge of the bed that he did not consider her goal until she had grasped the elven rebel god under his arms and yanked him backwards until his legs dangled off the mattress.  Lyna, Alistair knew, was surprisingly strong for her size, and those arms of hers could draw a bow as tall as she was.  </p><p>Solas looked mildly concerned at these events, but when Lavellan moved between his spread knees to seal his lips over his cock yet again, he sighed something further about his ineffably tragic past.  That was when Lyna cut off his ability to self-deprecate any further--by sitting down directly on his face.  </p><p>And Andraste’s ankles, wasn’t that the best and worst thing Alistair had ever seen?  Best because Lyna looked so indescribably gorgeous riding the elf’s nose and mouth; Alistair never got to see her properly in that situation, as his own field of vision was inevitably limited to a tiny slice of her thighs, and now he could appreciate the way her tits bounced in time with the rocking of her hips.  Worst because...what was there for him to do?  The ladies seemed to have Solas well in hand, the man himself seemed resolved to acquitting himself well enough against Lyna’s cunt, and Alistair thought it would be vaguely creepy to slither on down behind Lavellan and start something there, as they hadn’t even agreed that the two them would be making anything happen together.  </p><p>So Alistair was left with the hardest erection of his life, watching the three elves have rather excellent sex less than two feet away.  After a moment’s contemplation of the way Solas’ hand gripped the counterpane, Alistair decided to take matters into his own hand.  Why shouldn’t he? It was <em> his </em> magical healing spunk that was supposed to star in this ritual.  And Lavellan wasn’t waiting for anyone to give her a hand; she was balanced against her partial left arm, leaving her right hand rubbing little circles between her legs.  </p><p>So Alistair shucked his shirt and trousers, and scooted closer to Lyna.  He kissed her tenderly on her gently parted lips, then wrapped his hand around the head of his cock, sighing from the relief of it.  Lyna opened her eyes long enough to see what he was doing, and smiled encouragement.  She reached between her own legs, nearly smacking the Dread Wolf in the nose, and pulled out two fingers dripping in spit and slick to rub across the hot bar of Alistair’s erection.  And...Maker.  That was not a thing he’d ever thought he’d find arousing, but when Lyna closed a shaky hand around him and pumped him, Alistair thought he’d come even faster than he usually did during the first round.  (Alistair was a little tender, after all these years, on the subject of his stamina, which Lyna always reassured him to be mitigated by his refractory period).  </p><p>Lyna’s hand was less certain on his manhood than usual, but Alistair could allow that she looked very distracted.  He supposed that he ought to be watching what Solas was doing with his tongue so that he could pick up whatever techniques that man had gleaned over thousands of years of existence, but how was it possible for <em> him </em> to concentrate on what he was doing when the Inquisitor’s nose was now flush against his belly, his cock ruining her lovely throat?  </p><p>Lavellan opened her eyes long enough to wink at Alistair, pulling her mouth back far enough to do something tricky with her tongue.  Alistair heard Solas yelp, the noise muffled under Lyna’s thighs.  The elf’s hands shook where they were buried in Lavellan’s long, blonde hair.  </p><p>And that was all it took.</p><p>Alistair’s orgasm caught him by surprise, sending a lick of lightning up his center and leaving him nearly dizzy with the force of it.  He hadn’t been aiming anywhere in particular, and he was afraid to say that the impact zone was rather wider than he appreciated, striking Lyna, who probably did not mind, Lavellan, who probably did, and Solas, who might have had mixed feelings, considering that wasn’t that the point of the whole thing but warning would have been more polite?</p><p>Alistair pulled away from Lyna and flopped to his back, feeling a little embarrassed and a little blissed out and a lot self-righteous.  Somewhere off to his right, he heard Lyna’s breathing quickening.  She was never very loud, but he was familiar with the sounds she made when she was having a good time.  After a moment, Alistair saw her roll away from Solas’ face, patting him gratefully on the cheek.  She crawled over to check on Alistair, head tilted in amusement at the look on his face.  Solas had a hand on his jaw, moving it around as though not certain it was still attached where it was supposed to be.  </p><p>“I’m going to open that wine now,” Alistair said, trying not to sound put out.  </p><p>***</p><p>Ellana was grateful for that glass of wine. Not so much to cleanse her palate, because she really didn’t mind, but for the opportunity to collect herself after Solas’ first blowjob in some thousands of years and her first in some smaller number.  </p><p>Solas, if anything, seemed energized by what they’d done. Maybe the ritual was beginning to work, or maybe it was true what Iron Bull had always told her: the man just desperately needed an outlet.  But he was slouched carelessly nude on the bed, goblet dangling absently in one hand, looking as dissolute as any tale of Arlathan he’d ever told her.  </p><p>“Come here, ma sa’lath,” he said, beckoning her and setting the wine aside on the side table.  </p><p>Anticipation warred with caution in her heart--it was always one step forward, one step back with this man.  He pulled her to him and pushed her away every time they had touched.  But this time, he set one hand on her bare waist and the other on her shoulder, bringing her down for a lingering kiss.  </p><p>He smirked against her lips before leaning back to run two fingers against the semen on her shoulders, smearing it down over her breasts.  Then he stuck his fingers into his mouth.  </p><p>Ellana squirmed as her cunt pulsed in agreement with this course of action.  </p><p>“Anti-Blight magic?” she asked.</p><p>Solas laughed.  “No, just cum,” he said. “I am still not certain this ritual will actually work.”  He picked up his goblet and drained it.  “But I am willing to keep trying.”  </p><p>Ellana peeked over at Alistair and Lyna.  Lyna was curled on her lover’s chest, speaking to him in low and soothing tones as she petted him.  </p><p>Solas took her sore jaw in his hand and turned her head back to look at him.  </p><p>“Pay attention,” he whispered against her mouth.  He tipped her gently to her back, looming over her in the cradle of her thighs.  His lips trailed from her mouth to the curve of her jaw, finding a point he liked below her ear, then fastening on it.  He sucked hard enough to mark, making her gasp.  Meanwhile, his hand traced back down her body, tweaking a nipple hard enough to bring her hips off the bed.  He absently pushed her back down, then traced fingertips south past her navel, skating across downy pubic hair, and finally parting her lips.  His hand was gentle and expert between her legs, thumb barely brushing her clit. </p><p>“By the--” Ellana bit off a curse by the Dread Wolf.  “Don’t tease me.”</p><p>Solas took that request under advisement only, seeming to take some pleasure in watching her squirm restlessly around his fingers.  His eyes were heavy-lidded as he considered her.  </p><p>“In Arlathan, a liaison such as this would be considered barely commenced after several days.  I might expect to touch you for hours, bringing you just to the brink again and again, only to heighten your pleasure when I finally let you come,” he informed her. </p><p>Ellana found that she gave even less of a shit than usual about what they did back in Arlathan. In Arlathan, she doubted that she would have been expected to endure several years of unsatisfied sexual tension.  </p><p>“If you try that,” she informed <em> him, </em>“I suspect that everyone here likes me better than you and would not just help me kill you and hide the body after, if I asked nicely, but volunteer to give me whatever orgasms you held out on as quick as I’d like.”  </p><p>And perhaps that was not the smartest thing she had ever said to her lover, the ancient god of rebellion, but there were times that a woman simply had to speak her truth.  Anyway, he laughed.  </p><p>“Quick?” he asked, his eyes glinting dangerously.  “I am not certain quick is within my abilities.  <em> Hard, </em>I imagine I could provide.”  And he withdrew his hand, setting it palm down by her head.  She could smell herself on his fingers.  Obscene and arousing.  </p><p>She had barely a moment to brace herself before she felt his cock pressing between the lips of her cunt.  She scrabbled for something to hold onto when he gave a first, punishing thrust of his hips, coming up with nothing and sliding back across the bed’s satin counterpane.  </p><p>Solas simply pulled her back down onto his cock, arranging her to his satisfaction and then doing it again.  </p><p>Ellana whimpered.  </p><p>***</p><p>“Stamina isn’t everything,” Alistair muttered to Lyna.  She was a little distracted where she was bouncing in his lap, her face screwed up in that adorable expression she got when she was almost there.  He probably should have kept his thoughts to himself, because her rhythm stuttered long enough for her to look over at where Ellana was still writhing on the bed a couple of feet away.  Her arm was tossed loosely around the elven rebel’s neck, her legs wrapped around his hips and hooked together in a failing attempt to hang on for dear life.  It had been going on for quite some time.  </p><p>Lyna gave Alistar a faint smile that acknowledged that while stamina wasn’t <em> everything</em>, it certainly was <em> something</em>.  She bounced harder.  </p><p>Alistair opened his mouth to make another observation, but this time Lyna clapped a hand over his mouth.  He felt her body clench around him in a familiar pattern of wet beats, but he bit his lip and resolutely kept moving through it.  He was a king and a Grey Warden and he’d been getting laid regularly for nearly fifteen years now, damn it, and he had self-control.  </p><p>Lyna kissed him gently on the tip of the nose as she levered herself off him and slid off the bed, wobbling a bit, Alistair was proud to note.  </p><p>She padded to the sideboard and sniffed the bottles Merrill had brought in until she found water.  Lyna chugged half of it, then brought the bottle back for Alistair.  </p><p>“If you still want to attempt this ritual,” Solas called from a few feet away, “now would be a good time.” The man sounded a little breathless, which made Alistair feel better about himself, until he caught Lyna checking out his flexing buttocks.  </p><p>She made eye contact at Alistair as though to say, ‘yes, and you were looking too,’ and then shrugged.  She went back to the sideboard, this time returning with a bottle of grapeseed oil.  </p><p>Oh.  </p><p>She tried to pass it to Alistair, who did not immediately accept it, panic and performance anxiety rising, even though his cock was still aching for him to do something with it. </p><p>“Do I...do I put that on me, or on him, or…” Alistair asked, cursing how high and tight his voice sounded.  <em> Not the only thing high and tight in the room</em>, a more internal voice told him.  </p><p>Solas bit back a short laugh.  “Both, please,” he said. “It has been...some time.  And I would like to walk tomorrow.”  </p><p>Ellana dug her heels into his lower back.  “Me too,” she managed to moan.  “I would also like to walk tomorrow.”  Solas leaned forward to change his angle of attack, propping himself up by one forearm and snaking his other hand between their bodies.  Ellana uttered a garbled curse, something something wolf cock.  </p><p>Alistair took the bottle of oil and positioned himself behind the elven man.</p><p>“So you have..done this before?” he clarified. It was a relief.  </p><p>“What, this?” Solas asked, amused, making a punctuating thrust of his hips into the sweat-streaked Inquisitor.  </p><p>Oh, no, he had very obviously done <em> that</em>.  </p><p>“No, ah, <em> this</em>,” Alistair said, pouring a generous palmful of oil into his hand and smearing it vaguely against the lower curve of the Dread Wolf’s ass.  </p><p>Solas laughed again.  “The idea of, ah, <em> preferences </em> did not have much relevance in Elvhenan. We all lived too long.”  </p><p>Lyna gave Alistair a warning look when Solas started talking about Arlathan again, but Alistair was grateful for the commentary.  It provided him cover when he poured more oil into his hand and tried to really get in there on the second go.  </p><p>Solas’ hips stilled for a moment when Alistair managed to work one finger inside the other man’s tight ass.  Alistair would have withdrawn it, but the elven demigod curtly told him to keep going.</p><p>Lyna crept up next to him to give him an encouraging pat on his rear.  This was taking longer than he thought, and his cock was nearly painful for the time that had elapsed.  </p><p>Alistair managed a second finger, and would have considered that plenty of groundwork until Solas told him that he’d seen the equipment Alistair was working with.  </p><p>“Three. I must insist,” Solas told him.  </p><p>Alistair smiled, absurdly gratified by that.  </p><p>“Anything for the cause,” Alistair said, pouring nearly a quarter of the bottle of oil over his fist and finally working him open with three fingers.  Lyna went on tiptoes to press a proud kiss to his cheek.  </p><p>There was something of magic in the air when Alistair slicked down his cock with the rest of the oil and finally pressed the dusky tip of it to the Dread Wolf’s ass.  He could recognize it from his time as a Templar-recruit, from the day Lyna that cut down the Archdemon, from the night that he and Morrigan created a vessel for the soul of an Old God.</p><p>The ritual was working, he could tell, as he flexed his hips and gained perhaps half an inch. But even if it didn’t--he couldn’t regret the sublime grip of the man’s body around his cock, a sensation at once novel and overwhelming in its comfort.  </p><p>Solas leaned forward, teeth sinking into the Inquisitor’s shoulder. The movement had the effect of pressing him more firmly on Alistair’s cock, and the both of them groaned as the head slipped past the tight ring of muscle.  </p><p>“Alright, okay, so this is really happening,” Alistair muttered, grounding himself in Lyna’s little hands wrapped around his arm.  </p><p>He poured out the remainder of the oil over his cock.  </p><p>He imagined himself at the longtable at Weisshaupt someday, seated among his fellows.  In this daydream, Lyna was perched on his knee, even though she typically found that far beneath her dignity.  </p><p>In this daydream, they did not reject him for abandoning the Wardens to rule Ferelden. They were all boasting about their adventures, and Alistair was one of them. They cheered Lyna for chopping off Urthemiel’s head. They congratulated them both for ending the Fifth Blight.  </p><p>‘Oh that’s not all,’ Alistair said. ‘Some years later, we ended all the Blights.  Got rid of the taint entirely!’  </p><p>How did you do that, Alistair?</p><p>It’s a long story. Surely you don’t want to hear it.</p><p>But we do, Alistair.</p><p>Well, if you insist.</p><p>We do.</p><p>Are you familiar with Dalish legends?  </p><p>Yes?  </p><p>So when you get right down to it, I had to fuck the Dread Wolf.  </p><p>With that happy scenario playing out in his mind, Alistair pumped his hips and slid balls-deep.   </p><p>The magic in the air was now thick enough to be visible, crackling along the floor, curling around their legs and ankles.  </p><p>Lavellan’s feet were trapped between Alistair’s chest and Solas’ back, but Alistair no longer cared about small, awkward details like that.  He had the power to end the Blight--and the power to make the villain of Dalish legend gasp on his cock.  </p><p>He gave a powerful thrust, and the man finally went up on the balls of his feet and swore, burying his face in the Inquisitor’s neck. </p><p>It was a hell of a feeling, the way he tightened around Alistair’s cock when he came.  Exquisite.  Something Alistair would remember the rest of his life, along with the fluttering feeling of magic sweeping around the room, coiled and poised.  </p><p>Or maybe that was Alistair projecting, because his balls were as tight as a saddle girth against his body.</p><p>“Are we ready? Is everything ready? Because I feel really very ready,” he babbled, biting his tongue, thinking about genlocks. He tried to keep a smooth rhythm, but restraint was really not his forte. </p><p>“Do I need to get Merrill?” the Inquisitor mumbled from somewhere under Solas. “I don’t think I can walk.”  </p><p>“No, I am...ready,” Solas said, his voice rough. “Please.” His hands tightened on the sheets.  He braced himself.  </p><p>Lyna gave Alistair a pop on the ass as encouragement.  Maker, he loved that woman.  </p><p>“Right,” Alistair gulped.  He grabbed the Dread Wolf’s shoulders.  “For the Wardens!”</p><p>***</p><p>“Did it work?” Merrill asked when she popped her head in some time later. Alistair and Lyna had managed to cover themselves with a few bits of clothing tossed haphazardly around the room, but Solas was decent only because the Inquisitor’s long hair was covering him up, and the Inquisitor was cunt-drunk and lolling on the bed, as indecent as an Orlesian patio party.  </p><p>“I mean, the de-tainting. Not the sex. It looks like the sex worked,” Merrill clarified, eyeing patches of stubble burn and love-bites and the general layer of oil and stickiness coating all four of the participants.</p><p>“I feel…good,” Anders announced behind her, very suspiciously. “I think it worked.” </p><p>Alistair tilted his head back against the headboard, a small smile on his lips.  Lavellan did not twitch. Merrill thought she might be asleep. Poor thing.  No Grey Warden stamina. No magical abilities. She’d probably be feeling some unused muscle groups in the morning.  </p><p>“Well,” said Solas very contemplatively. “It probably bears some study.”</p><p>Lyna rolled over onto her stomach, looking at him with a speculative grin on her face.  </p><p>Solas looked around the room, making significant eye contact with Alistair in particular.  “It is important to be thorough.”</p><p>“Thorough?” Merrill asked, confused.  </p><p>Lyna nodded decisively, and Alistair stifled a giggle. </p><p>"Yes, thorough.  I think we should eat the rest of those cakes...and then try that again.”  </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>